Ghost of you

"I never said I'd lie and wait forever,

If I died, we'd be together…"

Had she loved him that much, unto death? How could a person love another person that much?

His parents never did. He began to cry; she had loved him so much and sacrificed her life to save his. She didn't know that he betrayed her. He caused her death. He nailed her to her cross; kind of like that Muggle story.

He couldn't forgive himself for that.

"…I can't always just forget her; but she could try…"

It had been two months since her death and everyday he thought about her, cried over her. No matter how hard he tried; he couldn't forget her. Now he knew how she felt when they fought and he fled. It was driving him insane.

He took another look into her diary. It read:

"…Love has made me a fool, set me on fire and watched as I floundered; unable to speak, except to cry out and wait for your answer, and you come around in your time speaking of fabulous places; create an oasis that dries up as soon as you're gone; you leave me here, burning in this desert without you…"

He knew that it was a song by some woman named Sarah. Hermione spoke often of her; very often, almost like she knew her personally. He had his own song to match his feelings.

"At the end of the world, or the last thing I see; you are never coming home, never coming home; could I; should I? And all the things that you never ever told me; and all the smiles that are ever, ever…ever."

There are seven deadly sins; and his was pride. Always was and always will be.

She was never coming home. And again he had to remind himself that her death was his fault. He couldn't have played the coward for once; he couldn't have squashed his pride and protected her. He had tipped them off.

That was what had killed her, his pride.

Too bad that pride is useless.

"…Get the feeling that you're never; all alone and I remember now; at the top of my lungs, in my arms, she dies; she dies…"

She had died in his arms; he hadn't cried then. He couldn't, not with almost every still living Death Eater around…

"…At the end of the world, or the last thing I see; you are never coming home, never coming home; could I; should I? And all the things you never ever told me; and all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me…"

He could see her smile in his mind's eye. He was sick of her haunting him; so sick of it.

He walked to the Dark Arts section of the Malfoy Library; he needed to find a particular book. A rare book, only four existed.

He found it; it was a Dark Arts book on self-mutilation. He thought of just using a knife but he was a Malfoy; he was too good for that.

He then found the spell he was looking for; for some reason the name of it was in Aramaic but the spell itself was in French, and French he could read.

"…Never coming home, never coming home; could I; should I? And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me; for all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me. If I fall; if I fall down…"

He was falling; he could feel it. The blood was slowly leaving his body. He should put something on it but he didn't want to move; he couldn't move.

A couple minutes passed and he felt his breath slowing; so with his last breaths he whispered to the air:

"…At the end of the world, or the last thing I see; you are never coming home, never coming home, never coming home, never coming home. And all the things you never ever told me; and all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me. Never coming home, never coming home; could I; should I? And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me; for all the ghosts that are never gonna…"

That was the last thing he said but his last thought was:

"Forgive me Hermione."